Don't let Go
by Silver Medals
Summary: The story of Cato and Clove: from hatred to missing each other when it's over. Eight one-hundred-word drabbles for tobestardust, as part of the GGE 2014.


"We have to work as _one_, Cato," Clove said. She sighed, glancing at Cato, who was collecting supplies for a hunt.

"No, we don't. I'm the strongest here, obviously, so I'll hunt down tributes and you'll stay here and cook some groosling like women do." He set off into the woods, wielding a long sword.

"Boys," Glimmer said with a slight chuckle. "Obviously, he just wants to show off!" Clove glared in the direction Cato had left. The sound of impalement came soon after. Only one thing was clear; they would never be a working team.

* * *

Cato didn't want to be a team. He was the chessmaster and the other four were his pawns. He tramped through the woods, his grip tightening over the sword handle. "We have to work as one," he mocked, driving his sword into the dirt. "God damn, if I cared about being a team, then no one would be dead because we'd all be fiddling about with making a flawless shelter together and sticking together."

He continued wandering through the forest, pushing branches aside without a care. _We will never, ever work as one, _he retorted in his mind.

* * *

Clove's arms were crossed over her chest, her glare focused on the woods. "I'm going with him," she said after a moment. She got onto her feet and stormed away. Glimmer plucked the groosling, innocently glancing down at the pile of plucked feathers.

"No, Clove, stop it!" Marvel yelled after her.

"Shut the hell up, Marvel!" she returned angrily.

Glimmer looked idly to the side, ignoring the yells of her fellow careers. The girl from Four chuckled beside her, as if humored by the two quarrelers. She wasn't humored. Clove continued her frequent glares towards the woods.

* * *

Cato didn't return for an hour. When he did return, his sword blade was dry, no blood slicked across the side of it. His game bag was empty.

"So I take it you didn't find anything, Cato?" Clove remarked angrily at Cato. There was silence, even if only for a moment. For once, the air wasn't heavy with arguing and yelling.

"No, I found nothing, but only 'cause it's past noon and everyone's left the vicinity," Cato replied as if it were obvious. He ran a hand through his shining-with-sweat hair and smirked.

* * *

Clove stared at the blonde creature. He- no, _it_ -stared back. It occurred to her that Cato wasn't so much a person as a machine of warfare: something made solely for killing. But he wasn't. She had seen him back in District Two. He had been sweet and nice and humorous. He hadn't been a vile creature, not someone that wouldn't so much as help out.

Cato stood there a moment more, as if he expected something of his fellow Career Tributes. "I...care about you, you know," Cato told Clove in a whisper.

"Yeah, right."

* * *

They wouldn't talk to each other. Clove ignored his constant attempts at conversation. Cato gave up after ten minutes. "Clove, just say something. Anything." Clove's ignorance wasn't bliss. If anything, it was annoying. "Clove. Talk to me." Silence. "Please?"

"Fine! What the hell do you want?" Clove yelled after constant attempts of conversation.

"I love you."

"Then why do you freaking run off when the rest of us are trying to make a plan? Do you even care?" Clove's voice rose from soft but stern into a yell. Silence. "Right, you _don't."_

"Clove. I _do."_

* * *

It began with the twirling of dark hair around a bloodied finger. A glance into eyes that showed kindness, a face that (though streaked with dirt) was more caring than it seemed.

"So," Cato inquired. "How's this for not caring?" Clove looked back, a half smile lingering on her face.

"I wouldn't call it caring. More like mindless flirting. But it's a start." More hair-twirling and occasional glances.

"Boys," Glimmer whispered dreamily. Marvel sat on a stump and simply stared at the two 'lovebirds'.

"So what? Maybe I love you. What's that even mean anyway?"

* * *

It was the dawn of the feast. There were only two Careers left, the others blood battered across knives and spears and stingers. "So this is where the star-crossed fall? Right here?" Clove asked.

"Yep, right here. We'll get them both and live happily ever after." Clove looked up into his bloodshot, green eyes and smiled. Not a smirk, not a grimace. A smile.

"Well, I can't wait." Clove's head rested on Cato's should as they waited, the dawning sunrise engulfing their thoughts.

* * *

"Cato!"

"It's all right, Clover."

"_Don't go. I love..."_

"You."

* * *

**A/N: For tobestardust, as part of the Gift-Giving Extravaganza 2014. Reviews appreciated.**


End file.
